Happy 'Ampuversary': One year after losing my leg, I have control over my life again

This piece was originally published on Oct. 31, 2019.

Sometimes the most mundane things can make you stop and think. The other day, watching the way an elderly couple relied on each other reminded me of how domestic violence changed my life. 

Less than a year ago, I sat in my hospital room trying to deal with the news that my broken foot had to be amputated. Unlike a bruise or scar, this was something I would never be able to hide. 

The old couple's actions were slow and methodical but also smooth, like they had done it a million times before. I watched how lovingly he cared for her and how much she needed him.

It was nice to know such kind and gentle love exists. I wondered what it was like to be so cherished. 

I may or may not have someone to help me once I get older, but I am OK. 

In fact, I am better than OK.

'Extreme highs and debilitating lows'

Halloween marks one year since my amputation. I call it my Ampuversary.

My first year as an amputee has had extreme highs and debilitating lows.

My first big test came after the snow melted.

Spring and summer had always been cute dress weather, but now I no longer had a matching pair of legs. I had to decide whether to hide my prosthetic from view. 

I chose not to give up my love for fashion, even if my unexpected accessory attracts curious looks. 

I'm back to wearing skirts and boots, just like before my surgery. A skirt makes it easier to slip my leg on and off. Nowadays my outfits are both fashionable and functional. 

One of the highs was being able to stand for the first time with my prosthetic. 

I hated the sight of it at first. It is a combination of plastic, metal, rubber and plaster.

I thought naming it would make it easier. I went with Hardy, after my Hollywood crush Tom Hardy.

Soon I will be fitted with my final leg. I'm still torn between leaving the steel bar exposed or covering it. Whatever I decide, it will be my choice. 

It's empowering to know I have control over my life again.

'A dark, lonely place'

Accepting myself didn't happen overnight. I thought it would be the hardest thing. It wasn't.

Before becoming an amputee, I was a journalist. I loved it. 

This past summer, I accepted that my dream of returning to that job was not physically possible. 

It was the straw that finally broke me. I fell into a dark, lonely place. I rarely left my room.

Eventually, I had to pick myself up. I was more than just a woman who lost a leg.- Kerry Benjoe

I cried a lot. 

I cried for the woman I used to be. I cried for the things I couldn't do. I cried for my future because I didn't know what it looked like anymore.

Then I cried for every unfair moment in my life.

Eventually, I had to pick myself up. I was more than just a woman who lost a leg. I was still a mom. My daughter needed me.

'Everything is different, but life is still beautiful'

I forced myself to start planning for my future. 

In September, I returned to school to pursue a master's of journalism at the University of Regina. I had always wanted to do it, but just never found the time. 

I have hit restart on my life.

I am still not sure what my future will look like, but I hope my story will inspire others to never give up. 

Everything is different, but life is still beautiful. Pimātisiwin keyāpic miwāsin.

This column is part of CBC's Opinion section. For more information about this section, please read this editor's blog and our FAQ.

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